


A Multitude of Sins

by Fire_Sign



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, MFMM Year of Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 06:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12600188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign
Summary: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."  Peter 4:8Dot waits to greet Miss Fisher at the docks on her return, but she's not the only one there.





	A Multitude of Sins

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine my shock when I managed to write a trope fic I had no ideas for in a couple of hours, including titling.
> 
> And for those not on Tumblr, a [link to this month's challenge](http://firesign23.tumblr.com/post/167033272582/mfmm-year-of-tropes-november-challenge)\--the trope is An (Un)expected Marriage. There's so many ways to spin it, and I'm really excited to see the results!

Dorothy Collins was waiting on the Melbourne docks, Hugh on one side and Cec and Bert on the other, eyes straining to catch sight of Miss Fisher in the crowd of people disembarking. Her miss had been rather vague about the specifics of who was travelling with her and how--Dot had enough sense to know that Inspector Robinson’s conveniently timed holiday was by no means a coincidence, but those two did have a remarkable knack for missed opportunities. And there was that rather pressing matter of Miss Fisher’s modern ways versus the inspector’s traditional nature. So it was with some small trepidation that she stood on the docks, rising onto her tiptoes as if the small difference in height would make the difference. 

It was Hugh who spotted her first, raising a hand in acknowledgment before pausing.

“That’s the inspector with her,” he said quietly.

Dot smiled. 

“Hugh Collins, if you say one word to scare him off…”

“Not certain we have to worry about that, Dottie. He’s just kissed her. In broad daylight.”

Well, at least Doctor MacMillan wouldn’t have to get blindingly drunk before dinner as she’d threatened to do. It seemed Miss Fisher’s best friend was about as fed up with those two as Dot herself was. 

“Dot!”

Miss Fisher had seen the small group, and barged on ahead to embrace her friend; the inspector followed at a more leisurely place, coming to eventually stand beside Phryne with an expression that Dot could not help but describe as ‘utterly lovestruck’. As he should be. Miss Fisher herself was chatting away, telling the assembled group about the journey and the plans for a family dinner that evening; oh, how Dot had missed her vivacity. 

After a few minutes she paused, glancing towards Inspector Robinson and giving him a smile that Dot would almost have sworn was slightly nervous. Or would be nervous, if the smiler was anybody other than Miss Fisher--Dot was quite certain Phryne Fisher had never had a moment of nervousness in her life. 

“The inspector’s bags will be coming home as well, if you’d make sure to load them when they arrive please, Bert,” said Miss Fisher, and Dot’s jaw dropped.

It was one thing to have private assignations or kiss in public, but to be so open about it? Dot was very pleased that her miss had seemingly found a modern relationship, but she _had_ to be aware of the inspector’s reputation? Hugh had been quite explicit about the whole thing; bringing the force into disrepute could lead to serious consequences, including dismissal. Admittedly he’d brought it up as he’d begged her to please not steal his evidence while the replacement DI was at City South, but she could extrapolate. No, some things were just unacceptable--she would explain things to Miss Fisher, and surely a compromise could be reached. Before she could form her arguments, however, another traveller made their way towards the small group.

“Phryne!” exclaimed an elegant blonde woman. “It was so wonderful to meet you, even with all that nasty murder business! You and your charming husband must come to dinner some time, Gregory and I insist on it!”

Miss Fisher agreed, and the woman spotted her own ride in the throng of people and headed off once more. The rest of the group stared in silent shock for a moment, before Hugh found his voice. 

“Murder, sir?” 

Dot sighed. Of course her husband had caught the unimportant part of that exchange.

“You _married_ the inspector?”

Doctor MacMillan might have a point about the fortifying nature of alcohol after all. Phryne just beamed at Dot.

“Yes, it did come as rather a shock. After Christmas we nipped up to Gretna Green, got the whole thing sorted. It really was a rather marvelous elopement.”

Dot continued to stare at Miss Fisher. There’d been a telegraph from London at Christmas and then another at New Years, and there hadn’t been a hint of such a thing. Miss Fisher, married! It nearly beggared belief. 

“Congratulations, miss,” she said, trying desperately to keep the doubt out of her voice. She supposed if there was anyone likely to navigate a modern marriage with aplomb, Miss Fisher would be it; she also could not think of anyone less likely to take up the challenge. 

Miss Fisher smiled, then looked towards the inspector again. There was a look in her eyes; Dot had glimpsed it before, usually on late evenings when she had entered the parlour during one of their nightcaps, but never had she seen the look in full force. It was love; solid, quiet love, the type Dot had only seen in a few people throughout her life, the type she aspired to have with Hugh one day. 

“I’m sure you’ll both be very happy,” Dot continued sincerely.

Miss Fisher’s smile grew, until she almost seemed to be laughing. 

“I imagine we’ll be happy more often than not,” she said, “and we’re both experienced enough to support each other through the rest.” She paused for a moment, tilting her head. “I can’t imagine anything better.”

The inspector gave a small, quiet smile at that. Dot found she could not think of any _one_ better for her miss, surprising as this development was. Giving herself a shake, she suggested that everyone head towards the motorcars--there was tea and biscuits back at Wardlow, and she for one was hungry. As people began to move, a sudden thought struck her, and she caught Phryne’s arm.

“Miss, I thought Scotland had a 21 day residency rule nowadays?”

Miss Fisher’s eyes sparkled. “They do, Dot, but I hardly expect that the likes of Aunt Prudence and general society will be examining their calendars or asking too many questions.”

Dot nodded. She had far too much experience with her friend’s nature to be truly surprised by this. She just had one niggling concern.

“Does the inspector know that it’s not legal?” she asked quietly.

Miss Fisher tilted her head back and laughed.

“Darling Dot,” she said, smiling, “who do you think suggested it?”


End file.
